thankfully there are no pictures of me sucking at hockey. instead, here's a good hockey picture to look at.

In her book “The Artist’s Way,” Julia Cameron says to give yourself permission to create bad art. This post is very likely going to be just that. Uninspired suckage. But writing this is better than a 2 day drought. Odds are this is going nowhere, so if you like to see a good crash and burn, please continue reading.

This post will not be the only lousy art I’ve created today. I actually just got back from creating some lousy art on ice. I am a 41 year old beginning hockey player with a grand total of 12 weeks experience. I have a torn calf muscle and I’m pretty sure my wrist has been broken for a few weeks. Every time I take to the ice, it is pretty much guaranteed to be bad art. I fall down a lot and make bad passes and swing at the puck and miss. This is how bad I suck: When the younger players are exhausted and ready to come off the ice, and they look over and see that I am their sub, they choose to stay on the ice and continue playing. Ahh good times. I am sure they were as surprised as I was when I had a rare moment of sheer inspiration and, with an amazing assist from my teammate Anne Marie, actually put the puck into the back of the net for a goal. They should have stopped the game and let me give a speech. I would have thanked Anne Marie and thanked the “permission to suck” advice from Julie Cameron. And then the crowd would have thrown roses. Oh wait. There was no crowd.

Anyway, here’s what I came away with: Sucking is like cow poop. Sometimes it is fertilizer that helps grow flowers and good stuff like hockey goals. And sometimes it’s just cow poop.

2 responses to “The Art of Suckage”

I find this post inspiring, Derek. The last time I was on skates, my primary decision wasn’t pass or shoot. It was, “should I get a chair to help me stay upright or just grab the nearest person when I start falling?” Good on ya for getting out there.

Derek Munson works as a writer, speaker, and all-around daydreamer. His writings have been translated into over 40 languages, and he has presented to over 100,000 kids across the United States and abroad. He lives in Bellingham, Washington with his wife Suzanne, their daughter Abby, their son Zack, and Roger the family dog.